


by the moonlight side

by brookstone



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: F/F, VERY light on actual romance, halloween party au, tbh i was just having fun thinking about the worldbuilding even though this is a oneshot lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27156328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookstone/pseuds/brookstone
Summary: Jaida looks flawless.That isn't a surprise, of course.
Relationships: Gigi Goode/Crystal Methyd, Jaida Essence Hall/Jan Sport
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	by the moonlight side

**Author's Note:**

> some sweet jaida/jan for the soul this fine october night! i adore jaida/nicky but listen. jaida/jan.
> 
> also i straight up make love to the sub-clause in this fic there are way too many commas youve been warned
> 
> OH! the reference for rock and nicky is code geass’ suzaku and lelouch. i know nothing about anime or jrpgs but their final fantasy videos gave me Feelings so here we are i guess
> 
> title from duran duran lmao

Jaida looks flawless.

That isn’t a surprise, of course, but she still blows everybody away when she walks through the front door with her hair waved, her face meticulously painted, wearing a gorgeous dress that shouldn’t be allowed to fit anybody _that_ perfectly.

The hushed response, all cupped hands and whispers and predatory glances to other parts of the room, is atypical, Jaida notices. She isn’t the type to demand positive attention, but, regardless, she is far from comfortable with the unsettling atmosphere that she’s apparently created. So, she gives one good pose, a _statement_ , and begins to start looking for her friends, the other partygoers all too happy to move and make pathways for Jaida to glide down.

Jaida’s social circle isn’t exactly the group of friends you’d picture her with, in all her grace, beauty, academic talent and charity — no, people expect her to stick around with other high caliber students, either with wealth or athleticism or other such accolades. That isn’t Jaida though.

Heidi is Jaida’s best friend — the sweetest soul she’s ever met, and the funniest too. She’s an exceptional marketing student, and people naturally gravitate toward her (always with a smile on their face). Jaida would choose Heidi for her team first every single time, no matter the task, and no matter if she knew Heidi would struggle or not. They’ve both cried rivers on the other girl’s shoulders, some shirts even sporting faint make-up stains, but they’ve also never felt freedom or happiness or pure intimacy and trust like they do together.

Crystal is, quite frankly, an enigma, even after all the time they’ve spent together. Jaida can’t even remember how she and Crystal met. Part of her believes that Crystal is a cryptid or a guardian angel or _something_ sent to spread joy and help Jaida slow down when she needs to (which is a lot). Crystal and Jaida are both creative and practical, which manifests differently in either girl, but has provided them with a lot of heated debates about the merits of thrifting or why nylon thread is superior, and hours bantering over sewing machines.

Gigi is Crystal’s… Girlfriend? Particularly close companion? Jaida still doesn’t know where the pair stand, but she’s spent enough hours in Gigi’s company to know that she’s blunt yet brilliant, has a wicked sense of humour, and happens to be the only girl in Jaida’s class that can come close to her level. She loves and hates that fact in equal measure.

And, lastly, Rock. To be honest, Jaida couldn’t think of a group of friends that Rock could be appropriately pictured with, but she’s glad that Rock has chosen her, and very much appreciates the girl’s particular style of eccentricity. She wears her emotions on her sleeve, and her chest, and her whole body, really, which Jaida treasures as a contemporary rarity, and, despite this, Rock never has a bad word to say about anybody.

Finding any one of them right now would be brilliant.

* * *

Jan’s been working on her Halloween costume since last _December_. (It was, for all intents and purposes, finished by the end of that same month, but Jan just couldn’t help herself from coming back to it and tweaking it and coming back to it again and—)

She’d started working on it before even knowing what kind of party she’d be going to. In highschool, the parties she frequented were paragons of alcohol and nudity and a celebration of dumb teenage freedom. College parties were more or less the same (just with _some_ attendees of legal drinking age) but, thankfully, on account of the local popularity of a few elite fashion and design students, she’d noticed a quiet but sincere admiration for good costumes. This had thrown Jan into an obsessive spiral each time she was reminded of that year’s upcoming Halloween.

This year, her third Halloween in college, she’d eventually ended up being invited to a party the next city over by Nicky, who’d been invited by some girl Jan’s never met, who’d in turn been invited by another girl that Jan’s never met. She’s noticed that Nicky seems to have something to prove with this party — she’s been even more stressed about her costume, her _look_ , that will only be seen through fuzzy beer brains for one night in crappy lighting, than she’s been stressed about her coursework. Jan doesn’t want to be smited, however, so each time she notices Nicky's angst she refrains from asking questions and instead offers a hand or a comforting smile or a kind word.

As it turns out, Nicky, the girl who got a full-ride international scholarship for fashion design, knows what she’s doing when it comes to fashion design. Jan’s already been told that the outfit is a reference to something that she can’t remember the name of, but she can’t see even an ounce of costume in the look. Knowing that Nicky did this in a matter of weeks alongside preparing for a national competition almost ruins Jan’s mood, or her perception of her own ten month affair, but Jan fucking _loves_ Halloween, and she isn’t the type of girl to be bitter over her friends being talented. (Plus, Nicky says her dress is beautiful. That’s worth a million pin pricks to her thimble-less fingertips.)

They, Jan and Nicky and Jackie and Brita, struggle to fit into Jackie’s dad’s old car. They struggle to get out, when they find a parking spot near the address Nicky’s friend gave them. And they struggle to figure out the plan of action for turning up at the party.

“This is Gigi Goode’s house,” Nicky almost hisses, pointing to the house with the heartbeat, looming, on the other side of the road. “I need to make an entrance, okay?”

“You wearing a Halloween costume today won’t affect her standing in a competition that happens in less than a week,” Jackie, the voice of reason, retorts, having been over this multiple times.

“I’m first in, or I’m taking the keys and leaving you all here.”

Brita rolls her eyes. “Fuck, bitch, go ahead then.”

Jackie hums in agreement. “Imagine if we’d managed to convince you to do a foursome costume.” Nicky glares daggers at Jackie. “See! You’re the _perfect_ Raphael!”

“I’m not dressing as a turtle, Jacqueline,” Nicky grumbles.

“Oh!” Jan cheers out of seemingly nowhere. “Or — ha — Jackie could be Chewbacca and we could do a star whatever! I’m obvo Princess Leia.”

“It’s _Star Wars_ , you fucking bitch!” Jackie laughs.

“Luke’s pretty,” Nicky says, claiming him as her counterpart.

“Fine, get me a _Shrek_ jacket and I’ll be Han,” Brita concludes with a smile.

They laugh, lock the car up, and head over the calm suburban street to Gigi Goode’s house. Well, house is an understatement. Jan bets that if she looked it up right now, the suburb they were in would appear on a _Most Affluent Neighborhoods in America_ list. It has a gate, for fuck’s sake. (An open gate, on account of the party, but a gate nonetheless.)

When Nicky walks in, and Jan, Jackie and Brita are left outside the front door, they all, despite the thumping music, register a hush in the conversation and cheering going on. Jan thinks she hears the clicking of phone cameras which wouldn’t surprise her. A few minutes pass before Jackie and Brita slip in, neither one of them the type for the limelight.

Jan hasn’t wasted ten months on nothing, however.

The reaction she gets is thrilling. It feels like graduation, performing as Sandy Olsson, and when you’re at the back of the rollercoaster and you see the front disappear over a huge drop and you know you’re next all mixed up in one. “It’s stunning,” “I’m shook,” “slay, girl,” “I need one,” “next level” and a menagerie of other compliments all dance around her, and Jan feels drunk on their admiration. The gasps at the ‘I don’t’ on the train of her dress are particularly fun, and she happily soaks up every single second.

It has, quite honestly, been a rough year for her — she’s been feeling like none of her teachers really notice her or take her seriously, which is disheartening for a girl with ambitions as vast as Jan. And when _Lemon_ , Jan’s biggest critic (and closest friend), even agrees that Jan deserves a better reception, you know you aren’t doing your job right.

* * *

“Oh, wig!” Crystal shouts as she sees Jaida, offering a hug with one arm whilst the other clutches her drink.

Jaida hugs her back, happy to at long last find a familiar face in the ocean of Jokers and zombie cheerleaders. She bites her tongue at Crystal’s word choice, knowing the other girl’s tendency to ignore trends. “You look snatched, bitch, oh my _god_ ,” Jaida comments earnestly as they pull away from one another, her eyes raking over Crystal’s Freddy Krueger look.

Crystal smiles and poses with her hands framing her face, before bursting into laughter. “Thank you! You look seriously angelic Jay.”

“We’re both serving, we’re both that bitch, end of. Now let’s get me a drink!”

Crystal seems to recite an essay with one breath as Jaida goes to get a drink, discussing how she watched countless horror films over the last few months to help her decide what she would wear on Halloween. Her other choice was a glammed up Ghostface from _Scream_ , but apparently Gigi had made a powerpoint to prove to Crystal why Ghostface wasn’t the right pick.

“So, girl,” Jaida begins as she picks up a cup. “What’s the tea? Why was everyone so bitter when I came in?”

Crystal shrugs a little. “I wouldn’t say bitter.” (Jaida gives her a look.) “There’s this other girl, right, in a black wedding dress, and oh, Jaida, it’s so pretty!”

Jaida nods, taking a sip of the blissfully chilled jungle juice. “Can we go find her?”

“Uh, sure, I don’t see why n—”

“Jaida! Crystal! Flip cup!” Rock exclaims, beckoning the girls to follow her to the game.

* * *

Jan watches the table over the rim of her plastic cup, gentle amusement caressing her face. The table is glorious, Jan notes in admiration, basically drooling over the entire house, but she's genuinely excited to watch the hastily established flip cup tournament. It's like sports, she supposes, but more stupid and a lot more drunk.  
And then, a girl in a black wedding dress grazes into view.

Jan's grip tightens on the cup ever so slightly.

Ten months, only to be upstaged by the most beautiful girl she's ever s— _woah. Where did that come from?_

But Jan watches her. She watches the way she smiles with genuine happiness, even when her team is losing. She watches the focus that flits over her features when she's waiting for her turn in the relay or trying to land the cup right. She watches her throat as she swallows, the way her fingers dance, the delicious way she teases her opposition with her eyes, and, then, suddenly, the girl turns to look at her.

Jan continues to stare.

The girl stares too.

They just gaze at each other.

Jan sees a frantic motion to the side of the girl, and the girl turns away, and Jan makes out a 'pay attention Jaida!'

Jaida.

Jan’s glad she’s not dressed like a ninja turtle.

* * *

Soon, Jaida’s wearing a dollar store plastic medal around her neck, and the taste of equally cheap beer has settled on her tongue.

She’s quickly pulled by the hand by Rock to her “French friend, she’s gorgeous,” and Jaida glances behind her to see Crystal with Heidi by her side, clearly looking for somebody too.

“Nicky!” is, quite loudly, shrieked and Jaida stumbles as Rock stops very suddenly and very sharply. Her hand empties, and Jaida looks to see Rock spinning in a hug with Nicky (who is objectively gorgeous, and probably also objectively French), and all of a sudden Jaida understands Rock’s outfit. There’s enough distinction in colour and shape that each one can stand on their own, but together, the shades of purple and red and gold and white, the extraordinarily high collar next to the more subtle band collar, the ridiculous but astonishing prop swords, they are something else entirely — Jaida would go so far as deific. She’s a little jealous.

The pair are a saccharine flood, and fawn over one another and their outfits for enough time that Jaida feels like some kind of third wheel; she begins to look around for Crystal or Heidi or anyone familiar.

She spots that girl in black again. She’s smiling, mid-conversation with two other girls, and they’re definitely moving. With purpose, Jaida notes. Closer and closer to Jaida. Huh.

And then Crystal’s resting her head on Jaida’s shoulder, and Jaida feels a bump as Gigi wraps her arms around Crystal, and Heidi’s already hugging Nicky.

And then _that_ girl and those two other girls show up and very clearly know Nicky, and Jaida doesn’t know what to do. She takes in the three, intentionally leaving _her_ for last, but when she looks at her the girl is looking back at her, again, and Jaida’s heart threatens to burst.

* * *

For once, Jan doesn’t know what to say. Jaida is so pretty that it hurts. She feels as though she’s damaging something pure and heavenly by looking upon her, especially with the rapture she knows is building behind her eyes. Jan wishes, for a moment, that she were a poet, so her thoughts about Jaida would do the girl some kind of justice, something more than _I’m fucking gay_ and _her skin looks so soft_ and _her collarbones, her shoulders, her **collarbones** , I’m being tortured right now oh my god_.

“That’s Jackie, Jan, Brita,” Nicky says with a few points, suddenly. The girl Jan recognises from Nicky’s hours on Facetime nudges her. “I’m Nicky.”

“Jaida, Crystal, Gigi, Heidi, Rock,” Rock follows, finishing by resting her hands on either side of her head, mimicking a crown.

“ _What_?”

“What?”

Nicky drags Rock to somewhere they can’t hear her, and Jan takes the lull in conversation as her cue to talk. “I do musical theatre!”

“Drugs,” Crystal says, offering her hand for Jan to shake. Gigi very poorly hides a giggle.

“Oh, wow!”

“Studio arts.”

Heidi does marketing, and Gigi and Jaida both do fashion design. Jackie shares that she does digital media, and Brita also does musical theatre.

“Nicky does fashion and design too,” Jackie says, looking at Gigi.

“Yeah, we’re both in this event next week,” Gigi confesses with a sigh. “She’s really fierce competition, I’m super worried about it.”

“Nicky’s the same actually,” Jackie tells Gigi before she can stop herself. “I bet she’s having a go at your girl right now for not mentioning you know Rock, honestly!”

Gigi frowns. All the girls do, however, quiet down and try to find Nicky’s voice through the music.

Too little too late, and Nicky and Rock walk back into the group, both looking sullen.

“Gigi problems?” Brita asks, very loudly.

Jan notices a little tremble in Nicky’s hand. So, before anything can get any worse (on Halloween of all nights as well!), Jan exclaims, “She’s worried too, girl!”

Nicky’s head snaps up to meet Gigi’s gaze. Gigi gives a slight nod. Jan can see the tension spill out of Nicky’s bones.

* * *

The two groups have been melting together for hours now, Nicky and Gigi becoming old friends within minutes, Jackie and Jaida and Heidi dancing together brilliantly despite their lack of sobriety, Brita carrying Crystal through a suspiciously Madonna-centric karaoke marathon, and Jan and Rock poring through Gigi’s playlists (with permission, of course), getting into argument over argument about Barbra Streisand and Rihanna and Metallica.

Jaida still feels this pull towards Jan though. They haven’t done more than exchange a few looks, and it’s making it hard for Jaida to focus, quite honestly.

And, then, suddenly, so soon it feels to Jaida like there never even was a party to begin with, Gigi’s running about and messing with the home security system and the house is empty except for the nine girls, and Gigi’s discussing the plans for sleeping over.

“It’s a six bedroom, but I would _love_ if we were all together,” she declares, sipping from a freshly poured glass of water. (Jaida bets the glass is worth more than her apartment, but she isn’t sure if that says more about the Goodes or her apartment.)

“Gigi’s an exhibitionist!” Rock yells, finger pointing between Gigi and Crystal. Gigi shakes her head and wags her finger at Rock petulantly.

“Rock snores,” Heidi mumbles, face buried in Jaida’s shoulder. Jaida just nods.

“So does Brita, fuck that,” Jackie says weakly.

“I’m French,” is Nicky’s argument for bunking solo.

“I call Jackie,” Heidi mumbles once again, arms reaching wildly for Jackie.

“So, Jan, Jaida…?” Gigi asks. She’s alarmingly, annoyingly sober, and painfully composed.

“Sure,” Jan says.

“Yeah,” Jaida agrees.

* * *

Jaida wakes up just before midday. She’s wearing an old faded _Sesame Street_ sweatshirt of Crystal’s (which was in Gigi’s room), and her underwear. She feels almost frozen when she registers the arm around her torso, the gentle breath on her neck and the floral fragrance of that pretty girl in black.

The only thing she can think to do is make sure she doesn’t wake the girl up. So she closes her eyes, nestles her legs against Jan’s, and lets herself fall back to sleep.

Waking up for the second time that day is starkly different to the first.

To begin with, Jaida’s in bed alone. The other half is still warm though, and Jan’s clearly taken care to move her share of the sheets flush with the pillows once more. Jaida blames the longing she feels at this revelation on the hangover.

She also sees that, now, it’s dark outside. _Shit. Fuck. How?_

And, lastly, there’s talking in the en-suite. Jaida doesn’t want to eavesdrop on the words of a stranger, but, then again, Jan is talking very loudly.

“Do I wait? Should I leave a note on the bedside like a trashy hook-up? Wh—”

“Dumbass, play it cool.”

“I’m not cool though!”

“I didn’t say be cool, Jan.”

“I hate you!”

“Why did you ring me then, bitch?”

Jaida feels her chest tighten as she raps short and confident on the en-suite door. It hurts her to swallow the dread and self-doubt in her throat.

“Yeah?” Jan calls out, hesitantly, after a few moments.

Jaida panics. “I, um, you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Jaida doesn’t move from the door. “Uh.”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna go to Nicky and Gigi’s thing with me?”

“For sure.”

Even through the door Jaida can hear the cheer from Jan’s phone.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry


End file.
